Secrets in the Shadows
by SheWalksWithRavens
Summary: Arthur was always one to help the downtrodden. But what happens when a Roman official shows up on his doorstep with his family in tow? Not all things are what they seem and soon the men find themselves caught in a web of deceit. TristanOC eventually. R
1. Chapter 1

**Secrets in the Shadows**

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing King Arthur Fanfic, so please be gentle with me. I am going to try and make the characters as similar as to the movie as possible, but if you have any helpful hints, suggestions, or just think I need to have some sense slapped into me feel free. Also, I don't own anything... if I did, I would be rather occupied with some men with really big swords wink

Please Read and Review!

**Chapter One: **_The Guests of Rome_

A crash of a clay jug of ale from a table was followed by a roar of laughter and a slight shriek as a passing barmaid managed to be on the receiving end of the jug's contents pierced the night. As per usual, the return of the knights to the wall brought on more celebrating, drinking, wenching, drinking and well...drinking.

The courtyard which served as the primary tavern to the fort was abuzz with life and it seemed that most of the roman soldiers stationed at the fort as well as townsfolk all showed up to engage in the festivities.

While Galahad recounted their latest adventure to all too excited barmaid perched on his lap, Gawain imbibed copious amounts of ale and would occasionally throw in facts that Gawain seemed to leave out such as the fact that Galahad nearly wet himself when he found a serpent in his bed roll.

Gawain's humourous additions sent everyone into an uproar, but no so much as Bors who seemed to take personal pleasure in the light-hearted torment of the youngest knight. Vanora had claimed Bors for most of the evening, demanding that he hold his newest bastard, aptly named number 10 as she was the tenth child in the brood. To anyone Bors would seem at first the most lewd, drunken, brute of a man until you saw him with his family. And as much as he would not like to admit it, he loved his bastards more than anything.

Dagonet watched the scene silently with amusement in his eyes from Bors' side as he drank quietly at the end of the table the knights had congregated about. To his right, Lancelot was whispering into a pretty blonde's ear god knows what, but whatever charming words he spoke seemed to draw a fierce blush and an audible gasp. When the desired affect had been attained, he sent a wink over to Gawain who just continued to laugh at the situation.

The only knight set apart from the jovial activities was Tristan. However, no one really seemed to notice. Tristan always stuck to the shadows, occasionally venturing forth to best Gawain and Galahad at dagger throwing or to add a sarcastic retort. He was their scout, the silent observer of everything and anything.

"So...then we were ambushed a pack of Woads..." Galahad started to say before he was cutoff by Gawain.

"They probably had heard Galahad's womanly shrieks and pinpointed our location." Gawain said over the rim of his tankard.

"I do not shriek like a woman!" Galahad said to the woman in his lap and the rest of the tavern who seemed to be listening in on the conversation.

"Actually Galahad, you do remind me so of my younger sister..." Lancelot started.

"It's the small figure I should think..." Bors continued.

"I am not small!" Galahad protested, but it was obvious he was the smallest of the knights.

"That's not what the wench you took to bed last night said.." Lancelot offered.

Galahad was positively fuming now, his blood had rushed to his face turning it a slight shade of purple and his eyes glazed over from drinking flashed with hatred.

"Might I remind you all...I was not the one who spent near half an hour flirting with a wench who turned out to be a -" Galahad spat when all eyes turned to face Arthur who had just strode into the room.

Though Arthur was their commander, he was closer to his knights than was considered normal. They were practically family, and Arthur was their paternal figure. He looked at them trying to hide the smirk that had formed from listening to their conversation. But he shrugged off the memory that had came back to him from listening to Galahad's statement and returned to the business at hand.

"My brothers. My knights. I just received word from Rome that we are to play host to a very high ranking Roman official and his wife and daughter who seek to make their permanent residence in Britain. He will arrive in a fortnight, and we," He looked pointedly at Lancelot as he said this, "are to be on our best behavior."

Lancelot snorted and all the other knights let out a groan. Romans always were full of pomp and arrogance, the last thing they wanted to do was play nice-nice to a bigoted Lord and his snooty family.

"Tomorrow morning we shall discuss this in greater detail. Until then, drink and Galahad do continue to regale this lovely ladies with Lancelot's exploits." Arthur winked then turned to return to the quiet of his chambers.

Lancelot gave Galahad a look that said, "If you finish that story I'll cut your heart out." Before draining the remains of his ale in one large swig.

"Well gentleman... if we are to discuss..Romans in the morning," The words came out vilely on his tongue, "Then I should retire to my chambers before both Bors and I can't piss straight."

Lancelot's words were met with a chorus of laughs, and Bors muttering something about the size of his endowment to Vanora who slapped him upside the head. Grabbing the wench by the waist who he had been flirting with earlier, he slipped from the tavern back to the residence hall.

The rest of the knights knew that Lancelot would not be getting much sleep tonight, for they would most likely hear his activities as they echoed through the halls. Shoddy architectural design in their opinions.

In the morning the knights, all of whom sported heavy hang-overs, save Tristan, were woken by Jols and led down to the round table. The impressive table which Arthur had prided himself upon dominated the meeting room, and was surrounded by more chairs than there were knights. Over the years the number of Sarmatians in service to Arthur steadily decreased till only the six remained.

"Men, let us not forget those who are no longer with us." Arthur spoke these words before every meeting at this table.

"As I already informed you, we will be playing host to a high-ranking Roman official in just two weeks time. However, what I did not wish to disclose in front of everyone in the tavern was that

the man who we are to have as our guest is none other than Marcus Paullus, the brother of the Pope."

Arthur could feel the detest for the man in his men's eyes simply because he was associated with the Christian church. He took a deep breath before continuing onward, attempting to ignore the look of abhorrence on Lancelot's face.

"He has been granted a substantial expanse of land to the South of the wall, apparently he is no longer welcome in Rome." Arthur continued as he looked down at the scroll on the table before him.

"And why is this?" Gawain asked.

"Because, he took an Egyptian wife...a pagan. For the safety of he and his family, the Pope thought it best that they stayed as far away from Rome as possible. Our duty is to receive Marcus and escort him to his home in the South."

"I have no desire to babysit a Roman and his exotic play thing." Lancelot stated, this was a pointless mission and he had no trouble admitting that to Arthur.

"Unfortunately Lancelot, what you desire has no effect upon the orders Rome has given us." Arthur stated firmly.

It was clear that more words would pass between these men before the day was through. But for the time being they decided to let the matter rest. Arthur then continued to explain the new assignments for duties before dismissing the men.

As the knights made their way out into the blinding morning sun, they no longer felt the need to hold their tongues on the matter.

"Does he honestly expect us to welcome a Roman and his spoiled brat with open arms?" Galahad spat.

"A load of bullshit if you ask me," Bors stated in his traditionally vulgar manner.

"Why does Arthur feel the need to coddle every single person he deems in trouble?" Lancelot said cooly.

"Arthur had no choice in the manner, let us not forget that." Dagonet offered as they entered the practice fields.

"Still...I have no desire to bow and scrape before some pompous ass let alone a Roman one." Gawain said with a slight amount of humor in his voice.

Tristan looked at them all impatiently, he had already drawn his blade and was inside the sparring circle like a predator waiting to strike.

"Are we going to spend the day gossiping like women, or are you going to hurry up and lose to me again?"

The comment from Tristan caused all the men to shut up and draw their swords, they didn't take kindly to be compared to women. There was to be a lot of anger released in practice that day.

A/N: _So what do you guys think? I am unsure of the story right now, but I promise it will be better once the plo_t _starts to move along. And in the next chapter we get to meet Marcus Pallus and Co! And to clarify, this takes place roughly two years prior to the start of the film. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated._


	2. Chapter 2

**Secrets in the Shadows**

A/N: Hey guys, I hoped you liked the last chapter. And if you didn't, I hope that this one suits you much better. I plan on posting as fast as I can turn out chapters, I was never one to put review ultimatums on my stories. But it does help to know that someone is actually enjoying what I'm reading, so please review!

And once I again, I don't own anything. I am however willing to pay a handsome sum to anyone willing to sell me Lancelot or Tristan.

**Chapter Two**: _The Arrival_

The day that all the fort, was dreading had finally arrived. Preparations for the arrival of Marcus Paullus had begun three days prior from cleaning and putting fresh linens in the guest chambers to slaughtering the animals they were to serve at the welcoming feast. With much protest, Arthur had even convinced his knights to bathe, a rare occurrence in the life of Gawain.

The round table was to play host to the feast that evening, and Arthur stood watch as servants bustled to and fro setting places and arranging candles. Sighing deeply he turned and practically walked directly into Jols.

He hadn't noticed his faithful squire standing behind him and it caused him to nearly jump out of his skin.

"My deepest apologies, my friend." Arthur said as he steadied Jols before he fell over.

"Tis nothing Arthur. I just thought to inform you that the caravan has been spotted and they should be here within the hour." Jols said the "enthusiasm" dripping from his voice.

Arthur knew no one wanted the Romans here, but what could he do, shove Excalibur in their faces and tell them to go back to where they came from? No, he would suffer their presence with all the honor and respect he could muster.

He took one last look at the round table, trying to imagine the reaction that Marcus would have at its sight and smiled before striding out to the courtyard. He stood facing the gate waiting for the familiar sound of horsemen and a carriage plodding along the dirt road which led into the fort. Out of the corners of his eyes he saw his men reluctantly join him. They still had two years service left to Rome and could not afford to do anything to anger those who held the keys to their freedom.

A shout was issued from the top of the battlements to open the gates, and the powerful horses were nudged forward with a slap to the rear and slowly the gates opened with a large creak. The heavy wooden doors settling into place with a slight thud, as the guards saluted the roman officers riding into the gate.

"Well..well... lets see what all the fuss is about." Lancelot said from behind Arthur.

There were four soldiers who road in front of the carriage, two on either side and four behind. Marcus Paullus took his safety very seriously, but his entourage only forced the knights to despise him more. The footman jumped down from the front of the carriage and held open the door.

An aged man with salt and peppered hair and a black beard stepped out. He was dressed finely but something about him suggested that he had seen better days. He carried himself like a soldier, and the slight-limp in his walk was a memory of a wound sustained when he was a much younger man.

"Ah, Marcus Paullus, it is a pleasure to finally meet you." Arthur said stepping forward.

"Arturious Castus, am I correct?" He said shaking Arthur's hand firmly.

Behind him a woman stepped out from the carriage, her hands wrapped around her skirts so that she would not fall. Her skin was tanned heavily, her hair was as black as the night and fell perfectly straight down her back. She was small and slender, and her delicate features were enough reason for Marcus to risk the trouble that accompanied marrying her. The Egyptian woman, who caused all this trouble walked up to Marcus' side and laid a gentle hand on his arm.

"Ah, my wife Fatima." Marcus gestured warmly to his wife.

"It is a pleasure to meet you my lady." Arthur said chastely kissing her hand.

Fatima did not speak but merely inclined her head to Arthur and allowed her gaze to shift to her daughter who was now emerging from the carriage. Marcus' daughter was hardly the young girl that Arthur had imagined her to be, she was a woman who looked to be in her twenties. Like her parents she had the same raven hair, she was slightly taller than her mother and had a very similar bone structure. However, the one thing about her that made Arthur look twice was her vibrant blue-green eyes rimmed in kohl.

"And my daughter, Inara." He said softly.

"Inara, welcome to Hadrian's Wall." Arthur said before kissing her hand gently and releasing it.

Arthur knew that he was going to have a hell of a time keeping Lancelot away from the girl. He just hoped that his overwhelming dislike of Rome would act as enough of a deterrent. The last thing Arthur wanted to deal with was an angry Roman official.

A slight cough from behind him, which was undoubtedly an excited Gawain's, brought Arthur back from his thoughts. Remembering his knights that stood to his side, against their will he felt compelled to introduce them.

"Forgive me for my manners, these M'Lord are the Sarmatian Knights." Arthur turned and introduced each of them by name.

Each man was met with a polite incline of the head from Marcus and soft smiles from the two women who accompanied him.

"Now, I assume that you will wish to rest from your journey before tonight's celebrations. Your rooms have been prepared for you, if you would allow my squire Jols to assist you."

Jols on cue came up to Arthur's side and gave a forced smile before motioning for the family to follow him as he led them to the guest's quarters. In actuality the guest's quarters were the former quarters of fallen knights combined and refurbished to accommodate higher-ranking guests.

After the Romans had dispersed, Arthur heard a low-dropping whistle sound from Lancelot.

"That Inara..." Gawain muttered.

"Lancelot do not even think about it... she is the daughter of a Roman official." Arthur motioned a sternness in his voice that was reminiscent of a father scolding his child.

When Arthur had journeyed out of earshot, Lancelot spoke loud enough only so the remaining knights could hear, "all the more fun to play with."

"Watch it, Lancelot. Arthur is right, that woman is trouble." Bors said through a laugh.

"Well he never was one for logic." Gawain joined in.

Tristan just smirked and turned and walked back towards the tavern. There were certain times in life where you needed a drink to make it all the more bearable, and dining with a Roman family was one of those times. Besides, something about that woman unnerved him.

The knights were the first to arrive at the round table. They relinquished their usual seats for the evening, clustering together at one side of the table for they had no desire to mix with the Roman family, they left them to Arthur. Arthur arrived shortly after them and waited patiently until a servant announced the arrival of Marcus and his family. They all reluctantly stood, showing respect more to Arthur than to Paullus.

"Good Evening," Arthur said to each of them before taking his customary seat.

The surprise that flashed across Marcus' face was quickly covered up as he took a seat to the right of Arthur, however it was not missed by the more watchful eyes of Tristan. It seemed that the majority of the eyes in the room were fixed upon Fatima and Inara. Where a normal woman would blush from such attentions Inara simply smiled and took the seat on Arthur's left. Picking up on a conversation with her mother in her native tongue.

"Your seduction seems to be working, " Gawain said in a hushed whisper to Lancelot.

"All in good time...all in good time." Lancelot said raising his glass to Inara before allowing the liquid to slide slowly down his throat.

"So... you are from Sarmatia?" Marcus finally said addressing the knights instead of Arthur.

"Yes." Was the gruff reply from Galahad.

"I have heard you are great warriors...It must be true since Arthur vouches for you." Marcus continued slightly inebriated.

"My men have proved themselves in battle time and time again, m'Lord." Arthur said trying to bring peace to the table before an all out fight erupted.

"Yes but clearly...a few have fallen." He motioned around the room to the empty chairs.

Fists were clenched around the table, and eyes narrowed on the Roman that they had to endure. If it wasn't for Arthur they would have killed this man already. The tension however was broken when Fatima spoke for the first time.

"But such is the way of great warriors, is it not Marcus? In Egypt, we have a saying, 'Those who fought well in life, are rewarded with the blessing of the Gods in the afterlife.' I think it would hold true for your fallen knights." Fatima said through a warm voice thick with her accent.

The men had to admit that Fatima was not as bad as they initially had thought, and that she handled her husband's mistakes wonderfully. She was clearly the true politician of the pair, always attempting to please everyone with her words and a comforting smile.

"Your horses are legendary. I have often wanted to procure one to breed with my mare, a Sarmatian and Arabian strain would be most impressive." Fatima continued steering the conversation even further away from the offending topic.

"Sarmatian horses are not easily tamed, M'Lady." Gawain stated matter of factly.

"Of this I am aware..." Fatima said taking a drink of her wine.

"My wife and her family have been breeding horses for generations. They were well known across the southern coast of the Mediterranean for their equestrian skill." Marcus boasted.

"Ah, then perhaps you shall grace us with a demonstration tomorrow." Galahad said through a false smile.

They all secretly hoped that if they let her near one of their horses she would fall and break her neck, sending Marcus back to Rome.

"I am afraid that I no longer am fit to ride, I sustained an injury several years back. But I am sure Inara would be more than pleased to in my stead. She has been riding since she was a small girl." Fatima said proudly looking at her daughter across the table.

"What say you Inara, are you going to indulge us ?" Lancelot said with a grin and a wink that did not go undetected by Arthur, he'd have to speak to him later.

"I would not want to dishonor you on my second day here...I am told in your culture it shames a man to have him lose to a woman." Inara said playfully.

The men all laughed at her boldness, and her sharp retort. Clearly, she was slightly more feisty or stuck up then they initially gave her credit for.

"Ah, I can assure you, that is highly unlikely..." Lancelot said before returning to his meal.

Inara watched Lancelot with calculating eyes. He was obviously the charmer of the lot, attempting to woo her to his bed with a few flirtatious words. He was handsome she gave him that, but she saw nothing interesting in him.

The other two men who spoke often could almost be brothers, and they seemed to be good spirited even though they clearly disliked the presence of Romans amongst them. She gave Galahad a slight smile, for he had been the colder of the two before she resumed glancing about the table.

Her eyes then fell on Dagonet, a man who though rather large in size, had hardly spoken all evening. Clearly he was a gentle giant. The other man to his left however was not nearly as silent. He kept making comments to the other knights when he thought that her family was absorbed in conversation, but she had caught quite a few distasteful phrases from his mouth.

The last man she looked at had spoken even less than Dagonet. Tristan felt Inara's eyes on him and looked up to meet her gaze. She knew that he was analyzing her just as she was him and she did not want to be the first to break eye contact for it showed weakness.

"...Inara? Inara, are you listening to me at all dear child?" Her mother said abandoning the language of the Romans for her own.

Inara reluctantly looked away from Tristan to her Mother's concerned eyes.

"No, I am just tired, Mwt. I fear the wine has gone to my head." This in turn was partially true, Inara was not a heavy drinker and she had consumed a deal of wine that evening.

Fatima whispered a few things in Marcus' ear who in turn stiffened and pushed his plate forward signifying he was done with the meal.

"Arthur, thank you for a lovely welcome. However I fear that I am rather tired from the journey and require sleep." Marcus stood as he spoke.

The rest of the knights followed suit, rising as they watched Marcus embrace Arthur.

"Of course, sleep well." Arthur responded.

Fatima walked a few paces behind Marcus and Inara lingered slightly glancing at the men one more time as they all slipped from the room. When Jols had returned from seeing them outside, Arthur knew it was safe to speak.

"Lancelot... I thought I told you Inara is off limits." Arthur scolded but was trying to contain his laugh.

"Honestly, she has no interest in him Arthur. Did you see how she snapped back at him?" Bors laughed.

"Sounds just like you and Vanora." Gawain stated.

"Nah, Van and I are different..." Bors said with a dramatic wave of his hand.

"And how is that exactly?" Lancelot said with an amused look in his eyes.

"We've got nine bastards running about now don't we?" Bors stated perpetually forgetting the number of children he had.

"-ten." Galahad and the rest finished.

"Besides, did you see how she looked at us? A woman like that is up to something." Galahad said conspiratorially

"Yeah, any woman who looks at Tristan for as long as she did has to have another purpose." Lancelot suggested.

"And why would they need to have another purpose?" Tristan said calmly.

"Well, why would they stare at you...when they could stare at me?" Lancelot said cheekily.

The knights all stood up laughing heartily and went their separate ways, most retreating to their rooms to pass out on their beds and a few seeking out more pleasurable company. They couldn't wait to see what that little hell-fire could do tomorrow.

_A/N: So what did you think? I know Inara seems like a bit of a Mary-Sue at present, but trust me there is more there. For the record "Mwt" is the Egyptian word for Mother. As always my lovelies, do take the time to review._


	3. Chapter 3

**Secrets in the Shadows**

A/N: Well, here it is chapter three. Since I'm posting these chapters all at once I can't respond to any reviews immediately but I promise I will as soon as I have run out of pre-written ones. That doesn't mean I don't appreciate your reviews however, and I will try to respond to all of them via email.

I am the proud owner of King Arthur and his knights... unfortunately this is only in my dreams.

Yo tengo nada.

**Chapter Three**: _A Friendly Competition_

All the knights had shown up to watch the race between Lancelot and Inara, as well as Arthur, Marcus and Fatima. Currently, Lancelot was parading back and forth on his large black stallion looking rather smug. He had no doubt in his mind that he would beat Inara and her little Arabian horse.

A few minutes later, Inara came from the stables, leading a pure white Arabian mare. The horse's mane had been braided in several areas and the brown saddle had an intricate gold inlay.

"Every bit the princess." Galahad muttered under his breath.

She had opted for a pair of tight fitting black breaches and a loose fitting green shirt of Egyptian cotton. Her dark hair had been pulled away from her face and lay in one long braid down her back.

"Sorry for the delay..." She said sweetly as she passed the men before stopping in front of her father and Arthur.

"Daughter, ride well and win." Marcus said with a wink.

"Well, I suppose we should lay out the rules for our little contest." Lancelot said staring down at her from atop his mount.

Inara not liking to have to crane her neck to look up at him, mounted her horse with ease. Now that they were on a somewhat even eye-line she motioned for him to continue.

"We are to ride across the fields up to the Northern gate, turn and ride back to the Fort Entrance." Lancelot said with a bit of a smile.

"That sounds simple enough." Inara said adjusting her hold on the reigns.

Lancelot moved his horse closer to her so that he could speak without her father hearing, "Perhaps I should give you a head start, I never did like to shame a lady to badly."

Inara glared back at him, "If you are so confident that you will win, mayhap we should place a bit of a wager."

The other knights looked stunned, partly because they weren't sure if Lancelot would actually beat her, and partly because they were certain Lancelot would do something stupid.

"And what exactly did you have in mind, Lady?" Lancelot raised his brow.

"If I win, I secure breeding rights to your stallion." Inara said confidently.

"You may have all the rights you want to breed with this stallion M'lady that you so desire," Lancelot whispered huskily. "But what do I get if I win?"

"What do you desire Sir Lancelot?" Inara said knowing full well that whatever he wanted would end up involving her.

"Your company tonight in the tavern and a kiss to be given at the time of my choosing." Lancelot said looking smug.

Inara thought that Lancelot couldn't be more predictable and though she had no desire to spend time in that tavern, she knew it could have been much worse. She reached out her small hand, and Lancelot instead of shaking it like she had intended, kissed the back of it. A deal is a deal.

Gawain slapped himself in the forehead, and Galahad groaned. When would that man ever learn? They moved to the top of the battlements where the rest of the knights had gathered to watch the event. Jols however remained at the gate to conduct the start and proclaim the winner.

"M'Lady Inara are you ready?" Jols asked loudly.

"I am." Inara replied with a smile. Determination weighed heavy on her brow and a glint in her eyes hinted at the excitement that danced behind them at the prospect of such a race.

"Lancelot, are you ready?" Jols asked again.

"As I'll ever be." Lancelot replied with a bit of a laugh.

"On your marks, get set... Go!" Jols shouted, and moved aside as the two mounts rushed past him.

Lancelot's steed had the larger gait and thus gained an early lead. But, Inara's mare was light and small and thus could move faster and sprinted ahead as they were half-way across the field. She leaned low over the horse's neck willing herself to be more arrow dynamic, while Lancelot urged his horse forward by using his reigns to spur his horse to greater and more fantastic speeds. She reached the Northern gate first but Lancelot was close behind.

Cheers were being issued from the top of the battlements as the two riders came nearer. Lancelot and Inara were now neck and neck and coming into the home stretch. It was impossible to tell who was going to win, but the knights seemed to have split in their factions.

Bors, Tristan and Gawain were all shouting words of encouragement to Lancelot. But at some point Dagonet and Galahad started chanting "Go Inara." Dagonet out of a desire to be courteous, and Galahad out of a desire to spite Lancelot.

When it came down to the wire, Inara's mare strained to stay ahead of Lancelot. The muscles under the white coat of hair flexing and stretching to their absolute maximum. Lancelot's stallion was powerful and he had the advantage of knowing the terrain. At the sight of the fort before them, it seemed as though his horse found all the extra energy it required to burst ahead of Inara into the gate's first.

"Lancelot! ROUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" Bors shouted as Lancelot slowed his horse inside the courtyard.

"Well done Lancelot." Arthur said with a wide grin.

"Proves what I always said was right, Sarmatian horses can beat a little Arabian pony any day." Gawain stated firmly.

Inara had slowed her horse and dismounted looking slightly forlorn. She was certain she was going to win, but she had neglected to account for Lancelot's home advantage. The worst of it all would be that she would have to sneak out from her chambers tonight and spend the evening at the tavern. Her father was going to kill her.

"Well done, m'Lady." Lancelot said as he approached her horse offering to help her down.

Inara shot him a glare and dismounted swiftly, both feet hitting the ground with a soft thud. Lancelot pulled his hand away as if it suddenly had been burnt and looked at her with a twinkle of bemusement in his eyes.

"You were the obvious victor, and as such you may claim your prize. All I ask is that you do not mention it in front of my father for both of our sakes." Inara inclined her head to him before leading her horse to the stables.

"And what exactly is this prize that I heard her mention?" Arthur asked Lancelot once Marcus and Fatima returned to their chambers.

"Nothing to be concerned over. Merely her company tonight at the tavern...and a kiss to be given at the hour of my choosing." Lancelot said with a smirk as he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth leading his horse towards the stables.

Inara removed the saddle herself, setting it on the stall door with a slight grunt. She then reached up and removed the bridle, setting it aside as she ran her hands along the muzzle of her horse.

"That a girl, Isis. You did well today...it doesn't matter that you didn't win. You made me proud all the same. I'd like to see his horse compete in our deserts. Briton is not your home...you belong on the dunes, running free with the warm sun hot on your back. I am sorry to drag you to this forsaken island, when you know naught of what wrong you have done." Inara whispered as she brushed out her coat.

Her woods seemed to soothe the animal, but her horse wasn't the only one that had heard them. Lancelot had entered the stables shortly after her, but did not speak after discovering her inside. His curiosity about the girl led him to wait and listen to her thoughts, he hoped that she would say more but she didn't. He took this as his cue to make his presence known.

As if he had just entered the stables, he spoke allowed to his horse, ushering him forward with a few words before placing him in his stall and repeating the same routine that Inara had with her mare.

"Your horse is quick footed, I'll give you that." Lancelot said without looking at Inara.

She set down the brush and allowed her hands to run the length of her horse's leg checking to make sure that no muscles had been strained or shoes cracked.

"Thank you. But as I said before, yours was the faster." Inara finally satisfied with her job gave Isis a small peck on the muzzle, scratched behind her ear and exited the stall.

She began to slowly walk from the stables, her entire body displaying a sense or resentment and defeat. As she passed the stall Lancelot was brushing his horse in, he took the time to look at her more closely. Perhaps, this spoiled Princess didn't want to be in Britain as much as they wanted to be here.

"The tavern isn't so bad you know...by most rights its considered rather fun." He offered to her retreating back.

"Don't worry, I shall uphold my end of the bargain." She said quietly before leaving to bathe in her chambers.

_A/N: Well there you have it. I was contemplating letting Inara win for a while, but then after I got the idea of the bet into my head, I knew it was Lancelot who had to be the victor. The next chapter should be an amusing one, the gears are already turning in my head. Initially I wasn't going to pair Inara with Lancelot if I paired her with anyone, but the story is taking a different turn. I don't' know if romance will be in the near future, but if you demand it, I must comply, so let me know what you think. If you want Inara with dear Lance, no one, or another knight. I am looking for a Beta reader if anyone is interested, let me know. As always, review! Review! Review!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Secrets in the Shadows**

A/N: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Sorry, I needed to let that out. I hate my computer... actually loathe is more like it. I was typing this chapter in an email, and the computer decides to crash. Naturally I was upset, and I used a lot of choice words to describe my anger. I think "shit" was the overall favorite. But moving on...

I don't own anything sadly. I just borrow these characters for my own personal pleasure.

**Chapter Four: **_Paying the Debt_

"Arthur, you seem like a man who always knows a lot more than he says." Marcus said from his position seated across from Arthur in his chambers.

"I was told at a young age, it is not wise to share one's opinion on everything, only on the things that matter." Arthur said proudly remembering a conversation he had with Pelagius when he had been small.

"Very wise. Yet, I cannot help but wonder what your opinion is on my situation." Marcus knew that he was forcing Arthur to play a very dangerous game.

Arthur thought for a moment, suddenly finding much to look at on his callused and scarred hands.

"I do not think that you should be persecuted for your wife's choice in religion." Arthur stated firmly, allowing his eyes to meet Marcus's to show his sincerity.

"Perhaps not. But I am the Pope's brother, it doesn't really set a high standard for the rest of the Empire. Though I wish I could remain in Rome, I know it is better for me and my family here in Britain. Fatima sees this, yet I do believe Inara is still adjusting to the drastic change." Marcus rubbed his eyes absentmindedly.

"Britain is quite different from Egypt and Rome. She's a strong and intelligent girl, she'll find her place here in time." Arthur said comfortingly.

But the discussion of Inara, reminded him that probably at this very moment she would be sneaking off to the tavern. Fear clutched at his heart, hoping that Marcus would not think to look for his daughter this eve.

"She claims that she is ill. However, I think it is that she is saddened that she lost today against your Knight." Marcus smiled a little at this.

Arthur started to pale, not liking the direction in which this conversation was heading.

"It was all in fun, I assure you." Arthur defended.

"But of course. I am actually glad she lost, it will do her good to learn that one cannot always succeed in life." Marcus said thoughtfully.

"An important lesson to learn I am sure." Arthur wasn't sure how long he could stay on this conversational topic, but he hoped Marcus would move on to anything else so he would be alleviated of this discomfort.

"My wife however, believes that Inara should be protected from everything and anything. She was told she would not bear any children, so naturally Inara was a rather unexpected but delightful surprise." Marcus confessed.

'So, he had taken Fatima as a lover because she would never bear his children. And she became with child, so Marcus had to marry her less he have a bastard on his hands.' Arthur mused.

"I would assume so." Arthur said politely.

"I had never thought of having children Arthur. But once you have them, they become your entire world. You will know of what I speak when you have your own one day... If anything should ever happen to Inara, I'd never forgive myself." Marcus's voice wavered slightly.

"Inara is very capable, M'Lord. I would not worry so greatly. However, I fear the hour grows late and we have yet to discuss our route to your new home." Arthur expertly steered the topic away from one that he knew could get him into trouble.

"Of course, let me not burden you any further with the troubles of an aging father." Marcus said before pulling out a map and setting it on the table before them.

From a crack in the doorway, Inara watched until she knew her Father would be occupied for quite some time. She slipped back into her rooms, and fluffed the bolsters hidden under the blankets that she used to make it appear as though she was sleeping in her quarters. She examined her state of dress, she tried to wear the most common thing she owned. However, her wardrobe was designed for that of Rome and the sands of Egypt and would clearly stand out amongst the drab grays and browns of Britain. She finally settled on a dark green silk gown that fell to her ankles and left her arms bare. On her right arm she slipped a metal band coiled to resemble a serpent. She left her long hair down, so that it might obscure her face and she only rimmed her eyes with a tiny smudge of kohl.

She was about to step out her door, when she remembered her dark blue cloak and quickly slipped it on pulling up the hood. She shut her door silently behind her and crept down the hallway and out a side staircase commonly used by the servants.

Although most were eager to ignore the cloaked figure passing by them in the night, Tristan decided to follow. He wondered who would be slipping from the residence halls at such an hour, and having not been privy to the bet he would never have thought to guess it was Inara. He molded to her like a shadow, always a few paces behind and utterly silent.

Inara paused looking around, she could hear the rousing laughter coming from behind one of these buildings, but which one she was not sure. The streets wound about in an unorganized fashion, small huts crammed in here and there and alleys barely wide enough for one person to walk through lingering between them. She decided to try one of the alley's thinking that it would be the most direct route to the tavern. However she only got half-way down the darkened path, when a hand snaked out and pinned her to the wall.

She felt her hood be yanked off and she was met with the endless depths of Tristan's eyes. Though his face did not betray any expression, his eyes widened momentarily in shock to see that it was Inara he now held in such a provocative position. He quickly released her and took a step back.

"My apologies Lady, but you would do well to not sneak about in dark alleyways." He spoke slowly.

"You have no need to apologize...It was quite my own fault. However, now that you managed to have found me, could you lead me to the tavern, I am a bit lost." Inara smoothed out her dress and readjusted her hood so that she no longer could be seen.

"The tavern?" Tristan said amused.

"Ah, so Lancelot did not inform you then?" She said sounding surprised that everyone in the fort didn't know of what Lancelot had won.

Tristan held a hand up to her to signify he desired no explanation of Lancelot's exploits or how he managed to convince her to come to the tavern. He merely walked on ahead, listening to make sure that she followed him. Inara's instincts had been correct, the tavern was in this direction, she only would have had to turn down another side-street to find it.

He bowed low and with his hand ushered her forth towards the courtyard. She took a few steps before turning to look him in the eyes again. Those eyes would be her undoing, she was certain of it.

"Are you not coming?" She said as a mixture of emotions flashed across her face.

"I must return to my watch...but perhaps later." He said amused that she actually wanted him there.

She uttered a thank you, before stepping out into the crowd. She had no trouble locating the knights, they were by far the loudest group and by the looks of it, the life of the party. A tidy sum of empty mugs already littered the table, most of them located around Bors. She heard them laugh, and saw Galahad turn red. They always seemed to torment that poor boy and she could not figure out why.

An idea played in her head, and she smirked knowing that she would get a rise out of the knights, especially Lancelot. She pushed her cloak back behind her shoulders and removed her hood, shaking out her hair so it was harder to distinguish her. Slowly she walked up behind Galahad allowing her hand to trail over his shoulder before she placed herself in his lap and purred into his ear, "Play along."

Gawain whistled and seemed taken aback. He had been teasing Galahad about his lack of female companions just moments earlier and then this beauty perches herself in his lap. The gods clearly were intervening on this one.

"Maybe I was wrong, the young pup can get a wench after all." Bors laughed.

"She's too pretty for him, there's no way he can keep her." Lancelot firmly stated.

Inara took Galahad's face into her hands forcing him to look her in the eye. His eyes widened in shock, as he realized that it was the Roman Official's daughter in his lap not some common wench.

"In-" He started to say before he was cut off by her mouth on his, effectively silencing both Galahad and Lancelot at the same time.

Galahad didn't react at first, merely allowed his eyes to almost pop out of his head. But eventually, he continued to play up the theatrics and dipped her low, running his hands through her hair.

Inara then broke free, coming up from air, and pushed her hair from her face out of instinct. Gawain spat his drink out on to Bors when he saw her. Bors in turn spat his drink out on to Dagonet, who merely wiped at his face with his sleeve before turning with the rest of the table to stare blankly at Inara.

"Hello boys." She said smirking before sliding herself from Galahad's lap to sit between him and Lancelot.

"You... and Galahad? But.. I..what?" Gawain said dumbfounded.

"You are just jealous Gawain, that I got the prettiest girl in all of the fort." Galahad smugly before wrapping his arm around Inara's waist.

Inara swatted his arm away, and turned to Lancelot, clearly amused by the utter look of confusion on his face which was mirrored by the rest of the knights.

"I thought I made it clear, that I was to receive the kiss for winning." Lancelot whispered in her ear.

"And you shall, I keep my word. That however, I did for my own enjoyment." Inara winked at Galahad who now seemed to be occupied by a wench who had caught the earlier display before running a finger across Lancelot's cheek.

"Can I get one?" Gawain asked half-drunk.

Inara smiled and shook her head 'no.' Though she kissed the younger knight and found it to her liking, she wasn't about to kiss every man in the fort. Besides, winning over Galahad aided her purpose. She took Lancelot's cup from him and drank deeply, thinking that it contained water. She however couldn't have been more wrong. Her face contorted in disgust as the ale went down her throat, and she looked as if she had swallowed a bug.

"Can't take Vanora's ale?" Bors said with a laugh.

"How can you drink this?" Inara said in disgust.

"Hey, Vanora, she's insulting your brew." Lancelot shouted to the fiery red-head, who raised a brow in question to the presence of the roman official's daughter.

"I find that it always helps, to drink it slowly at first. Then once you have enough in your system, you hardly notice the taste at all." Dagonet said with a small smile.

Inara looked reluctant to try it again, but she brought the cup to her lips and took a small sip. It was still rather vile, nothing like the wines of home. However, once she managed to drain the cup she seemed to forget about her initial distaste for it.

"Whoa, now... don't drink too much or you'll never make it back to your rooms tonight." Lancelot said as he took her third mug away from her.

Inara giggled constantly, and swayed where she sat. Lancelot stayed her and looked at her eyes which were now slightly unfocused but as enticing as ever.

"Did I ever tell you that, you have very pretty eye-lashes?" She said as she looked up at him.

"I have pretty eye-lashes?" Lancelot said with a small laugh.

"Yep, just like my Mother's." Inara nodded over enthusiastically.

Gawain laughed to the high-heavens as he was listening in on their conversation, this drunk woman was too funny for words. Lancelot shrugged it off and pulled her closer to him, the drink no longer allowed her to object to the feel of his hands on her and he relished in it.

"Well, I most certainly...am _not_ your mother." Lancelot stated.

"I know. You have a beard... and you have anatomy that I'm quite sure my mother doesn't have." When she referred to his manhood, she gestured wildly to the region and nearly hit him in his sweet spot.

He grabbed her wrists just in time, and she once more doubled over in a fit of laughter. How on earth was he going to get her back into her rooms without the entire fort hearing her?

At some point Tristan had silently joined their table, taking Bors's now vacated spot. He drank solemnly, not attempting to join in any other conversation but snorting to himself when appropriate.

"Lancey-lot, I want to go to sleep." She said yawning.

"Alright, but we need to get you sobered up a bit before when can take you back to your rooms." Lancelot said brushing the hair from her eyes.

"But, what if I want to go to your room?" Inara prodded him in the chest rather hard.

"As greatly as it pains me to say this, you can't come back to my room with me." Lancelot stated not wanting to take advantage of her.

Tristan now turned to watch their conversation, surprised that Lancelot would turn down the chance to bed anything. He let his eyes wander over Inara, she was so exotic, so foreign and when he first saw her she was entirely captivating. It was strange how the effects of a drink can change her into a giggling and loose maid.

"Fine, then can I stay with you tonight?" Inara turned to Galahad.

"Oh...how to answer this question." Galahad said licking his lips, savoring the sound of it.

"No you may not!" Gawain and Lancelot shouted.

"Can I sleep with you then?" Inara looked at Tristan.

Tristan stopped mid-drink and looked horrified. For a split-second emotion was written all over his face, and the other knights looked as dumbfounded as he.

"Inara, I really think that isn't a good idea." Lancelot stated slowly.

"I can look after her. And get her into her rooms once everyone has gone to sleep." Tristan said once his wits returned to him.

No one had expected him to make this offer, least of all Lancelot, but Inara seemed rather happy with the prospect of it. Granted, she would probably be happy if a leper told her she could stay with him at this point.

"Honestly Tristan it isn't necessary, I'll just take her back to her rooms now." Lancelot started to stand.

"Actually, its not a half-bad idea. Tristan's room is the closet to where they are staying and he is the most stealthy one of us all." Dagonet agreed.

Lancelot didn't want to take advantage of Inara tonight, but that didn't mean he didn't want to enjoy more time with her hanging on him and cozying up to him like she was her favorite toy.

Inara had managed to wiggle herself free from Lancelot's grasp and made to stand, but found her legs wouldn't hold her. She fell straight on to her butt, but was hoisted up by Tristan who had wrapped his arms around her waist.He at first tried to right her and get her to hold her own weight, but she kept falling forwards, leaving them in a very odd looking position. Finally he gave up and scooped her up into his arms. She soon blacked out and snuggled into his chest. He arranged the cloak to cover who she was lest, a Roman guard should see.

"Don't worry Lancelot, I'm not going to try and bed her." Tristan said with a smirk before leaving the tavern and a disappointed Lancelot behind.

_A/N: So what do you think about drunk Inara? She's a bit horny to put it nicely. I had her kiss Galahad to show that she is more free-spirited and young and not just a pretty doll so to speak. The entire drunk Inara experience is a mixture of how my friend and I are when we are drunk. So yes, we do fall over the entire time and are very free with our affections to put it nicely. As for if they are going to get caught...well you will have to stick around to find out. Review! _


	5. Chapter 5

**Secrets in the Shadows**

A/N: I had fun writing the last chapter and this one was fun, but not quite as fun. However after that chapter I am not sure anymore who Inara should end up with. We have the obvious Lancelot possibility, we have the Tristan option (more so after this chapter), and Galahad. Gah! Help me choose please, because until then we are just going to have a lot of tension.

As always, I own nothing. I am but a poor and humble writer, with only this story title and the plot to my name.

**Chapter Five: **_Aiding the Inebriated!_

Tristan took the passageways he knew no one would be using at this hour, so that he would not be stopped. Granted, most would just assume that the woman in his arms was a whore he planned on bedding that evening and not Inara Paullus. She was small and thus rather light, but he still stumbled occasionally as he himself was not entirely sober.

He arrived outside his rooms and glanced around quickly before nudging the door open with his foot and closing it behind him similarly. The room was dark, but he still managed to place Inara gently on to his bed. She did not stir as he did this, but merely looked to be in a peaceful slumber. He managed to light a candle and placed it near the bed, bathing her in a golden light.

Knowing what lied ahead for him, he left his room briefly to obtain a bucket lest she be sick, and a water basin and cloth. Upon his arrival he found her eyes wandering to and fro, not focusing long on one object. She managed to stay her vision long enough however to meet his gaze.

"I sleep...?" She mumbled, the sound of her voice heavily obscured by her slurring.

"You passed out yes, but not for more than half an hour." He responded placing the bucket beside the bed, and soaking a piece of fabric in the water basin.

"..Lancelot..me..ale." She muttered but he could not decipher what she was saying.

"Lancelot was too drunk to take care of you, so I took on the job. I'll get you to your rooms as soon as I know you can be left on your own." He ran the cloth over her face.

The coolness of the cloth cleared her head somewhat, but she had far too much ale in her system to be remedied by a splash of water to the face. She watched him as he wiped at her brow, and around her eyes, the kohl coming off and staining the cloth.

He didn't speak, and it was probably best this way as she wasn't in a state to carry on a conversation and Tristan wasn't one for words. Inara fumbled with the clasp of her cloak, her normally nimble fingers unable to undo the contraption. Tristan finally grabbed her hands and set them at her sides before quickly undoing the clasp and sliding the material of the cloak from her shoulders.

His touch was surprisingly warm as it glided over her skin, and had she been more alert she probably would have enjoyed it more. Tristan however was concentrating hard upon the fact that he was just doing what was right, and seeing to it that no harm befell the girl.

"Head...hurts...I ...sick" Inara choked out before finding the strength to flip on to her side and vomit the contents of her dinner as well as all the liquid she had consumed that evening into the bucket.

Tristan reached forward and grabbed her long hair holding it back as she puked. For a battle hearty warrior who could see a man lose his head and not even flinch, he was having a hard time watching her wretch. Perhaps it was the combination of the smell and the sound of her vomiting that was getting to him, but Tristan himself started to get sick.

Finally, she seemed to stop. But he continued to hold her head over the bucket just in case. After a few moments he finally helped her to sit up and he made her rinse her mouth out with some water.

"..thank you." Inara said with some effort so that she would be understood.

Tristan nodded his head, and began to braid back her long strands of hair. Holding her hair back and holding her up was too bothersome. She allowed him to work without questioning, his fingers already knowing how to weave the locks as he braided quite a few of his own. Soon two rather tight braids lie on either side of her head. Inara began to relax, as a girl when her mother had played with her hair she'd always fall asleep and with Tristan it was no different. Shortly after she passed into a quiet slumber.

Tristan was glad for the reprieve and took this opportunity to empty out the bucket and scout the hallway to see if it was clear of all other inhabitants. It seemed that most were already fast asleep as no candle-light spilled out from beneath their doors. Now was the time to bring Inara back to her own chambers.

He moved like a cat in the shadows back to his own room, shutting the door gently behind him. Inara was still fast asleep snuggled into his blankets. Tristan slowly reached down an shook her arm to rouse her. Instantly blue-green eyes looked back into his brown.

"I want to see if you can walk yet." Tristan said clearly and firmly before hoisting Inara from her sitting position on the bed

She looped one arm through his, and tried taking a step but she was far too off-balance and shaky. Once more, he gathered her up in his arms. He was going to have to carry her back to her bed, which would make this operation slightly more difficult. He took care to wrap her cloak tightly about her again, and set off slowly down the halls with his bundle.

Luckily no one came across him, and he shut her bedroom door silently behind him. He took in the room they had given her, it had once belonged to a knight named Robin. A rather cowardly boy, but his fellow knight none the less. He remembered during their second year of service to the Empire, Robin got attacked by a rooster outside Bristol. He killed the animal and up until the day he died Gawain had called him the Vanquisher of Chickens.

He lay her gently upon the bed as if she was as fragile as a peace of glass and was about to leave the room entirely when he remembered that she was not dressed for bed. Not really wanting to have to change the woman's clothes, he settled on removing her cloak and tucking her firmly under the covers. Inara was a smart girl, she could think of something to explain why she fell asleep in a dinner gown instead of a dressing gown.

He took one last glance at her, she was peaceful and for once didn't seem imposing. He tried to remember her just as thus because in the morning she would be entirely unhappy and back to being the little Princess.

"Goodnight Inara." He whispered under his breath.

Tristan stepped out of the room and was met with one very angry and shocked parent.

_A/N: I know I'm mean this chapter was short and I had to leave it as a cliffhanger...cause it allows me to say the following: dun dun dun! As for Robin, any sensible person would know that it is a reference to "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"_ _and his vanquishing of the vicious chicken of Bristol. I think this chapter was mostly filler, but it was needed so I could have action in the next chapter. What kind of action, do you ask? Well...you'll have to stick around to find out. Review!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Secrets in the Shadows**

A/N: So as I was writing this chapter I somehow managed to consume 4 cups of coffee. As a result, I may be slightly insane. And by insane I mean hyper, and by hyper I mean weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! In this chapter we get to see Tristan, man of very few words, try to talk his way out of a potentially dangerous situation.

**MistakenLove-** You are my first reviewer and thus, amazing. I'm glad you like my story and I will take what you said about Inara and Tristan into consideration. Sorry to leave you with a cliffy, but it had to be done.

Me: Can't I buy you?

Lancelot: Well...alright! wink

People who own the rights to the movie: No!

Me: Stupid mean people.

**Chapter Six**: _The Morning After_

"You!" Spat Fatima with a stone cold glare that could rival that of Medusa.

"You defile my daughter!" Fatima continued with a hiss.

"I have done no such thing." Tristan said calmly.

"Lies! You were in her room in the middle of the night!" Fatima shoved him hard so that he backed into the wall.

"I was returning your daughter to her room. She fell ill in the hallway, and I was returning from patrol when I found her and brought her back here." Tristan lied.

"If you are not telling me the truth I shall see your head placed upon a pike!" She threatened before pushing him aside and entering the room.

"She was retching, the bucket is outside the servants entrance if you want to examine its contents." Tristan said from the doorway.

Fatima sat on the edge of the bed looking at her daughter. She was still wearing her evening gown which was a good sign, and her fitful sleep suggested that she was in fact ill. Pressing the back of her hand to her daughter's forehead she noted that Inara was not with a fever and she thanked the gods for that.

"Perhaps what you say is true. In that case I thank you for attending to her, you may take your leave Sir knight." Fatima said bringing her voice back to its usual warm tone.

Tristan inclined his head and left the room returning to his own quarters. Fatima spent the rest of the night tending to her daughter, and watching her with sad eyes. Her daughter did not belong here in this land, nor did she belong in Rome. It pained her greatly to know that she would never see the sands of Egypt again for her fate was sealed when she married Marcus.

When the sun reached high-noon did Inara finally stir. Her evening gown was twisted about her legs and the kohl around her eyes was smudged down her cheek. Inara's skull pounded, and her stomach felt as if the slightest jolt would send her vomiting again.

"You finally awaken my child." Fatima said from across the room where she had been examining one of Inara's gowns.

"Have I slept so late?" Inara said as she weakly stood.

"Aye, you have nearly slept the day away. But I shall have some food sent for you, and water drawn for a bath." Fatima let the silk gown slide from her fingers and swept from the room.

Inara fingered her braids not particularly knowing how she had come by them. She glanced at her reflection in the looking glass and saw that she was a mess. Make-up smudged, dress askew and hair braided haphazardly.

"Your mother tells me that your stomach has been uneasy because of something you ate..." Came the voice of Vanora from the doorway where she stood holding a tray.

"But I know, that it was in fact ale that had set your stomach churning last night."

"You will not tell her?" Inara said fearfully.

"Of course not. And she'll never be any the wiser to the matter if you drink this quickly." Vanora held out a small glass to her.

Inside was a vile brownish looking substance, with the consistency of porridge and the smell of a skunk.

"This is terrible. An animal would not be fit to drink this. What on earth is it?" Inara pinched her nose as she held the glass.

"A little of this... a lot of that. There isn't one day that goes past that my dear Bors doesn't wake up with a headache, it will fix you up right proper. Now drink." Vanora nudged her arm.

Inara reluctantly downed the substance, which took its sweet time making its way down her throat. She ran for the water basin and quickly rinsed out her mouth to rid herself of its taste.

"Now, that should take care of your stomach. We need to get some food in you, this porridge here should stay down." Vanora pushed a bowl into Inara's hands.

It was almost as if Inara was another one of Vanora's brood, the way she mothered her that morning. After making Inara eat every last spoonful of the warm porridge, she escorted her to the bathing chambers.

Inara felt slightly odd having this strange woman bathe her, but knew that the only way she would get entirely clean was if someone else did the job. Vanora chatted most of the time about her children and how Bors was a pain as much as she loved him.

"These braids will have to come out if I am to give your hair a proper washing." Vanora said as she began to undo them.

"Its strange, I do not remember braiding my hair at all last night." Inara said as she stared at the stone wall with much interest.

"That's because you didn't." Vanora continued as she worked the lavender oils into Inara's thick raven locks.

"Well who could have braided my hair last night? Gawain? Galahad?" Inara joked.

"Tristan." Vanora said firmly.

"Tristan!" Was all Inara had time to say before Vanora forced her head under the water to rinse out her hair.

Inara came back up sputtering and wiping the soap water from her eyes before it began to burn.

"Yep, he took care of you and brought you back to your rooms last night." Vanora said as she held out the cotton robe for Inara to step into.

"But whatever happened to Lancelot?" Inara questioned.

"Dagonet had to carry him back to his own room. Drank too much the two of ye." Vanora began to comb out Inara's hair.

"Why did Tristan take me?" Inara was surprised the silent scout was not the one she could ever see playing nursemaid to a drunken noble.

"I have no idea. All I know is that he volunteered for the job. Maybe he fancies you? Or more likely he was the only one sober enough for the job."

Inara seemed to accept this fact and made a mental note to thank Tristan later. Vanora's eyes widened with excitement as she looked at Inara's exotic wardrobe. None of her clothes were this fancy, she was a mother and a barmaid. It just wasn't practical to own anything so vibrant and fancy.

"Oh, m'Lady you should most certainly wear this today." Vanora stated as she produced a cream colored gown with gold trim from the chest

"Vanora, I'd freeze to death in that. Besides, I plan on exploring the fort today and I want to be comfortable." Inara replaced the gown.

"Ooh what about this one?" Vanora said as she held up a blue dress made of a gossamer like material.

"Vanora, I'll freeze!" Inara stated firmly.

It didn't help that most of her clothes were meant for the warmth of Rome and Egypt. She hadn't had time to update her clothing for their move to Britain and she could not deal with the cold air.

"Alright, alright. Here, this should be lovely." Vanora pulled out a light green gown with white sleeves and tiny leaf stitching on the cuffs and neck.

Inara had almost entirely forgotten that she had brought that dress with her. It was what she wore the day she came of age for marriage nearly seven years ago. Most had though it strange that she had not yet wed, it was unnatural for a woman of twenty-two winters to not have a husband.

"I suppose this is suitable." Inara stated as she pulled the gown on to her body.

It was more snug than when she last wore it, as she had filled out with time, but it was becoming.

"Ah, lovely." Vanora said as she examined the girl who had been her doll for the past two hours.

Inara's thick curls gleamed and she looked the picture of innocence for once as opposed to a temptress. No kohl was around her eyes, no crushed rose petals adorned her cheeks, it was simple and she adored it.

"Thank you, Vanora. You have been a most wonderful companion." Inara said as she embraced the fiery red head.

"I am sorry that I cannot escort you about the fort, but I have a bunch of little ones to get back to."

"Of course. I shall find my own way." Inara smiled.

It was only when Vanora left the room did she recall her inability to find the tavern in the winding layout of the fort. She prayed to the Gods that she would not lose her way today, and set off to explore.


	7. Chapter 7

**Secrets in the Shadows**

Me: I'll trade you a duck for the rights to all the knights.

People who own the movie: Hmm... tempting.

Me: Come on you know you want to give them to me!

People who own the movie: On second thought maybe not...

Me: God damn it give me the knights.

People who own the movie: Nope.

Well I tried, but I still don't own the knights. I just have my original characters and my plot.

**Chapter Seven: **_Exploring_

Inara was convinced that she had seen that same building four times now, she could recognize it by the sleeping old man outside. It frustrated her to no end that there was no sense of organization about the place.

"Either you are extremely fond of walking in circles, or you are lost. Which is it?" Came a taunting voice in Inara's ear.

She turned round to stare into the eyes of Galahad. The poor boy, hopefully he did not think that she fancied him after she had kissed him last night. Why did she even do that? It wasn't as if she had the ale as an excuse to behave in such a manner.

"Unfortunately it is the latter." Inara said smiling.

"Ah well, in that case let me assist you in the matter. Where was it that you were heading to?" Galahad said raising a brow.

"Everywhere and anywhere... I wanted to see the fort not just the walls of the guest quarters." Inara explained.

"Care for a guide then?" He said offering his arm to her.

"You have my thanks Sir knight." Inara said with a playful curtsey before she looped her arm in his.

He showed her the tavern, the stables, the blacksmith and the training grounds before the sun had almost set. Galahad turned out to have realized that Inara's kiss was only in jest and was he told her of this she relaxed with him immediately.

"I am afraid I have kept you from your duties for too long, Arthur will be cross with me." Inara stated when her legs no longer wished to wander.

"He could not be cross with you m'Lady, merely me. And as much as it pains me, duty calls." Galahad took her hand and kissed it briefly before heading back towards the armory.

Inara glanced up at the orange sky and decided that she would rather enjoy the view of the sunset from atop the wall. Galahad had pointed out the staircase on their stroll and she was fairly certain she could get to it on her own.

She made only two wrong turns before she ascended the stone steps, a handful of skirt in either hand as she carefully made her way. At the top she was met with a clear view of the sunset. The sky looked as if it had been painted and was more beautiful than the ones she saw at home.

"Granfather, if you could only see this with me now." Inara said to the wind as she rubbed her pendant.

The small silver star was a gift from her grandfather before he passed. It had belonged to her grandmother, whom Inara was named for. Before Marcus came for her and her mother, Inara lived with her grandfather in Egypt.

She continued to gaze at the sun's descent when she spied a small fleck of black moving over the orange. As it came closer, she realized that it was a hawk. Her father had a servant in Rome named Hector who used to hunt with the bird and she used to enjoy stroking its soft feathers.

Inara imitated what she had seen Hector do to call his bird, by sticking out her arm and letting out a low whistle. She felt rather foolish once she had done this, as Hector's hawk was trained and this was probably a wild creature. She was pleasantly surprised however, when the hawk landed on her arm.

The talons of the bird pierced the thin fabric of her gown and sunk into her forearm. Inara let out a gasp of pain and she tried to shove the bird from her arm, but it wouldn't budge. A short whistle from behind her called the bird away, and she pushed back her sleeve to see two sets of three marks scored into her flesh.

"She did not mean to harm you." Tristan said as he walked closer with the hawk perched on his left arm.

"I did not realize that she was yours." Inara said before pulling the fabric of her sleeve back down.

"She belongs to no one." Tristan stroked the birds beak before letting her fly off.

"But yet, she's drawn to you." Inara said as her gaze met Tristan's.

A long silence passed between them as they looked out at the remainder of the sunset. Inara kept rubbing her right arm with her left hand, the wounds stinging with her touch, but she did not want to alarm Tristan with them. She had been enough of a bother to him last night.

"Thank you for taking care of me last night." Inara said remembering her manners.

Tristan nodded his head to her in response but did not speak. His lack of words unnerved her, all the other knights especially Lancelot could not stop chattering but Tristan never seemed to find use for words.

Inara started to walk away when Tristan reached out and grabbed her arm. He pushed back her sleeve and looked at the cuts his hawk's talons made and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he examined them.

"These need to be bandaged up." He said as he ran his finger tips over the skin.

Inara stared at him as he traced the wounds lightly. She could hardly feel his contact, yet it seemed to send a blush to her face that she tried to will away.

"Come, Dagonet shall see to you." Tristan took her arm and led her down the stairs and towards the residence halls.

He stopped outside Dagonet's room and knocked briefly on the door. Before Dagonet could answer, he distanced himself from Inara.

"Tristan... Inara? What is the matter?" Dagonet said with confusion in his voice.

"My hawk." Tristan said as he pulled up the sleeve to show the gash in her arm.

"Come inside." Dagonet said, opening the door wider to admit them.

Dagonet's room was simple, a bed on one wall, a fireplace on the other, and a table in the center with various herbs collected on it.

"Well Lady Inara, you seem to need tending to quite often." Dagonet said as he evaluated the wounds more closely.

"Only since I came here." Inara defended.

"I am going to need to apply a salve so these won't get infected, then I shall wrap your arm. Luckily she did not cut you so deeply that you would need to be stitched." Dagonet explained.

He worked diligently with a grace she did not expect from a man of his size. A few minutes later her arm was wrapped tightly in clean white linen bandages.

"Thank you." Inara said as she pulled the sleeve of her gown back down.

"You are welcome any time M'Lady." Dagonet said with a smile.

Dagonet looked at Tristan who had stood in the background the entire time. If he didn't know better, it would look like Tristan actually cared for the girl. But in the years he spent with him, Tristan never once cared for any woman.

Inara rose and walked out of the room, only to find Tristan a few paces behind her. She stopped abruptly and turned to look up at him. She thought she saw a flicker of emotion for a second behind his eyes, but the mask was soon replaced.

"My mother will worry if I do not return soon..." Inara began.

"Aye." Tristan said, knowing full well of how capable that woman was of worrying.

"Perhaps you will indulge me with another conversation tomorrow." Inara said in jest.

"Perhaps." Tristan said, the corners of his mouth twisting up into a smirk.

"Goodnight...Tristan." She said slowly.

His name from her lips sounded almost as exotic as her appearance and he was taken aback for a moment before he replied in a whisper, "Till tomorrow, Inara."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: So I apologize to all my readers for the excruciatingly long delays between chapters. I just started college and its taking me a bit to get acclimated. But don't worry, I haven't found a life and I still intend to write fanfiction. Thus, here is a long awaited chapter. If you guys could review and let me know if anyone is reading this I'd love you forever.

Karissa, thanks for sticking with me.

As always, I own nothing.

**Chapter Eight**: _On a Night Such as This_

It was close to midnight and Inara had yet to retire. Instead she sat at her window, with a thousand thoughts racing through her mind. She rang her hands in her lap as her eyes were focused intently on the plethora of stars dotting the night sky. Running a hand over the linen bandage on her arm, she hoped that her mother would not take note of it.

She ached to ride and she missed Isis. No doubt her feisty mare, could do with a good run. Having made up her mind, Inara slipped her cloak over her simple night shift and made her way to the stables. She was careful not to disturb any in the residence hall, walking nearly on tip toes until she was out in the courtyard.

The night air stung her cheeks, her warm breath freezing moments after it left her body. The stables were dark, the only light shining in from the doorway. She felt along the stalls till she heard the familiar neigh of Isis.

"Ah there you are...Have you missed me, hmm?" Inara whispered softly as she made her way into the stall.

She rubbed her horse's muzzle, before slipping on Isis's harness. Inara did not bother with the saddle. Saddles were only useful on long journeys, but for a ride in the night, bareback would be just fine. Inara hoisted herself on to the animal's back with little difficulty. Clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth she rode out of the stables like lightening.

The night watch did not take notice until they saw a white blur making for the gates. They opened them quickly, assuming that the rider was a messenger who needed to deliver urgent news to one of the ports. This was a fairly common occurrence at the fort so they thought nothing of it.

Inara could taste the freedom the moment she was free of the imposing wall. Isis's hooves dug into the ground propelling herself forward, while Inara kept herself on merely with the strength in her legs. Freedom was something she desired, but never truly had or would have. A woman had limited choice in life, and Inara was no different. There were many days where she cursed the heavens for not making her a man, but after seeing the Sarmatian Knights she realized not all men had a choice either.

The knights! She had grown fond of them, they intrigued her. Such odd men, but with ultimately good hearts that she could not deny try as she might.

"A lady so beauteous as yourself should not be out beyond the wall without an escort. Luckily for you, I am here, so you need not be afraid. I shall protect you.." Came a cocky voice from behind her.

Inara did not have to turn around to know who it was that had spoken. Only one man could be that arrogant and ego inflating while paying a compliment, Lancelot.

"Would that be before or after you are done examining your hair in a looking glass?" Inara retorted.

She couldn't see his expression, but she imagined it would border on outrage and pure hysteria. Inara kept her eyes fixed on the night sky, and the tree-line like a woman possessed. Lancelot rode up next to her, and tried to follow her line of sight to whatever she found so bloody interesting. But alas, twas only a patch of trees.

"So, why are you out by yourself?"

"I needed to get away to think, why are you following me?" Inara said finally breaking her gaze to look him in the eyes.

"Don't flatter yourself, I wasn't following you. I was on patrol." Lancelot said with a cheeky grin.

"Do women ever find your constant annoyance attractive?" Inara said when she could take his smug look no longer.

"Naturally, it doesn't help that I'm devilishly handsome either." Lancelot examined his nails in a nonchalant manner.

Inara began to laugh, and then she did something that made her only laugh harder, she snorted. Inara of the Pauli actually snorted. Lancelot couldn't help thinking that she looked like a lunatic at this moment, but something about the way she convulsed with laughter was in its own way, endearing.

"Please, it wasn't that funny." He stammered.

She continued to laugh, pausing only long enough to get some air into her lungs, but even with her futile attempts to breathe she was turning a lovely shade of red. Lancelot had to reach out to stay her so she didn't fall from her horse.

"Calm down woman, you are behaving like you are insane."

"Maybe I am." Inara said after she stopped laughing.

"Women, I'll never understand the lot of you."

"Don't try, we are far too complicated for you and I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself trying." Inara turned her horse with a soft click of her legs to Isis's side and headed back towards the wall.

"Ha! You are quite something Inara." Lancelot said as he followed her.

"Do you not understand, _Sir_ Lancelot, that I wish to be alone. In simpler terms it means, that I don't desire your company this night." She said over her shoulder.

"This night? But you do another night? I don't know, I am a rather busy man. I am not sure if I can squeeze you in on another night. Unless of course you don't mind sharing a bed with two other people."

Inara's jaw dropped at his implications and she snapped it shut tight again, as her eyes widened in anger.

"Listen. I am not interested in you. I don't care if the wenches find your demented sense of humor and gluttony for punishment enticing, I don't." Inara rode through the gates and towards the stables.

Lancelot halted just inside the building shortly after her. He unsaddled his horse and led it into its stall. Not bothering to brush out its coat, the stable hands would see to that, he made his way to Inara and he wrapped his arms about her waist.

"Lancelot, please remove your hands." She said through clenched teeth.

"But there still is this unsettled manner between us, m'Lady." He whispered into her ear, the warm breath causing the hairs on her neck to stand erect.

She turned to face him so that they were hardly an inch apart. Inara had to tilt her head upwards to look at Lancelot's eyes since he refused to lower them to her.

"And what precisely is that?" Inara said glaring all the while.

"This." Lancelot said softly before quickly capturing her in a kiss.

Inara was stunned, and kept her eyes open until, he became so persuasive with the use of his tongue that she gave in to him. Lancelot was certainly experienced, his kiss having been nothing like the awkward boyishness of Galahad's. It was more demanding, and like a second-nature.

Instinctively she wrapped her arms about his neck, as he backed her up against the stall wall.

His kiss was pure fire and it consumed her for those few brief moments. Forgetting herself and the situation, she was almost disappointed when it ended. As her eyes slowly reopened, she saw Lancelot giving her a smirk of satisfaction. Her hands clenched into a fist, and then unclenched at her sides.

"And all this time I thought you would take your prize in front of all of the knights..." Inara said finding her voice to be slightly shaken.

"If I did that, m'Lady, I am afraid that your father would have my head on a platter." Lancelot said with a smirk.

"No, my father would see to it that you never bred again. My mother is very fond of the platter."

"Oh I see. Well, in any case the situation would be terribly grievous," Lancelot said pausing when he saw a shadow briefly interrupt the light that was falling through the open stable door, "In fact, to avoid all chances of that happening, it might be best if you return to your quarters."

Inara gave him a slightly puzzled expression, but he was right. She gave him a small smile and whispered a few comforting words to Isis before giving her a piece of apple. When she looked back to say goodnight to Lancelot, he had already gone.

Inara stroked Isis's muzzle, then left the stables. She drew her hood up upon exiting to drive out the night air as much to hide her identity from the few Romans who remained awake at this hour. Her movement did not escape their notice however, least of all the notice of the Sarmatian scout who had been perched upon the wall for sentry duty.

He had seen Inara ride out and knew that Lancelot, who had been out surveying the permiter, would bring her back to the safety of the fort. The Woads had been uneasy of late, and though Inara was no doubt a formidable opponent when it came to a battle of wits and an excellent rider, she was no warrior. His dark eyes tracked their movements, wondering what Lancelot and her had conversed about. Surely he tried his flirtations upon her, and she rebuffed him for that was all they seemed to do.

Tristan was about to return to walking along the top of the wall, when a shriek pierced the night. He quickly ran down the stairs, drawing his blade as he did so. Upon arriving at the scene, the home of the Captain of the Roman guard, he found a bloody mess. His wife, had awakened to his throat being slit. And all she knew was that it was a woman wearing a cloak with dark hair who had done so.

The Romans who had followed shortly after, instantly remembered seeing a cloaked figure emerging from the stables and went after her. Upon Arthur's arrival, Tristan explained the details of the situation never once thinking that who did this still remained in the fort. As the Knight's conviened at the Round Table, none of which were happy to be awake at such an hour.

"Knights... a murdered has occurred within our own fort. Captain Ronatus is dead. And the murderer is within these walls. From what his wife, Arcadia, told us... A cloaked and hooded figure that she claims was a woman, stole into their bedchamber in the night slitting her husband's throat as she slumbered beside him. Arcadia awoke, screamed which Tristan and the others heard, and the figure fled out the back entrance. Now, Arcadia just said that they entered, killed off the Captain and fled. I noticed however, something slightly out of place. You see Captain Ronatus held a copy of the plans for the Fort. That copy is now missing."

"So you are suggesting, that some lass broke into a Roman soldier's home, killed the Captain of our guard, and stole the plans for our Fort. And escaped?" Bors said summing up what took Arthur ten minutes into one sentence.

"No, what I am saying is that a woman broke into a Roman soldier's home, acquired the plans, killed the Captain, the wife awoke, the other fled. And they are still amongst us." Arthur finished.

Just then several soldiers entered the room. They nodded their head in respect to Arthur who ushered them forwards.

"Sir, we have captured the murderer and she is safely within our jail cells being interrogated now. We haven't recovered the plans, but we believe that after the interrogation she may be a bit more willing to talk." The solider said shortly.

"That was fairly easy...now I get some actual rest." Gawain said with a yawn.

"Right, men. Lets finish this tonight so we can get some sleep, hmm?" Arthur rose and followed the soldiers out.

The holding cell for prisoners was located in a chamber beneath the wall. Though considerably better than most, it was still at any rate a prison. A few common thieves resided in the mostly empty cells, but in the very back chained to the wall was their captive.

Nothing could have prepared Arthur for when she raised her dark head to look into his eyes...

**A/N:** Yep, I gave you a cliff hanger. Yes I am that mean, and yes it is that obvious as to who's in the cell. But the plot is starting to unfold. A murder in the night, and missing plans for the fort? Dun...dun...dun... And what _is_ going on with Inara and Lancelot? Well, you will have to wait to find out. And please review if you'd like me to keep going. Thanks.


	9. Chapter 9

**Secrets in the Shadows**

A/N: I find it funny, I go months without inspiration, but when it comes it hits me like a ton of bricks, so now I find myself abandoning my other story for the moment to write this one. I thank all of you who took the time out to review: it means a lot to me that you did and gives me encouragement to keep going.

I own only but the clothes on my back and the ideas in my head, and I need only air in my lungs and food in my belly!

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**Chapter Nine: **_Caged_

Nothing could have prepared Arthur for when she raised her dark head to look into his eyes, for they were the unmistakable blues of Inara Paulus. He inhaled deeply, words could not describe the amount of shock he felt in that moment.

Inara was nursing a split lip, and the beginnings of a black eye, the sure markings of the Romans' "interrogation." Her knuckles were also split open and she cradled that hand tenderly against her chest, Arthur looked to the man who stood guard over her and noticed that his nose appeared to have been broken.

"Inara..." Arthur said softly as he looked at her once more.

"Arturious Castus" She replied as hollowly.

At that moment the knights had chosen to come bursting into the jail, wanting, since sleep had been denied them, to see the wench who had caused such a ruckus. They were rather pleased that Captain Ronatus was dead, he was in their opinion a Roman worth killing.

"So Arthur, let us get a good look at the whore who slew Captain Ronatus." Bors said playfully.

"Aye, is she a pretty young thing Arthur? One of his mistresses perhaps?" Gawain offered.

As the knights finally reached the end cell Arthur stopped them from looking inside by spreading out his arms.

"Men, return to your beds. There is nothing for you to see here." Arthur said sternly.

"Come on Arthur, we just want to have a bit of fun." Lancelot joked.

"Leave..." Arthur said coldly.

The men all started to walk away, clearing the field of vision for Tristan. And though he could not see her face, a long slender tanned leg was visible.

"Inara?" He said to Arthur with a raise of his brow.

The men stopped having heard Tristan, and turned around with equally puzzled looks. Arthur, defeated, removed his arms and stepped aside so they could look at the woman who had murdered the Captain of the Roman guard, the woman who they had been sworn to protect.

"You are joking right?" Galahad said in disbelief.

Arthur shook his head. Tristan moved forward and glanced into the prison cell. Inara looked back at him, unable to move because of the shackles upon her ankles and wrists. The cloak she had been wearing when she went riding was no longer upon her person, leaving her in the thin protection of her shift. And though it kept her modesty covered, it did nothing to ward out the cold of the dungeon.

Lancelot pushed to the front of the pack and took his turn to look upon the woman he had been with just hours before. She looked broken, like an animal too long caged. But she had only been in here for a few hours.

Under the scrutiny of the knights, Inara drew herself even more inward, hiding her bleeding knuckles from their sight and turning her face away from them. Their faces had fallen upon seeing the Roman 'princess' in the cell.

"Arthur, how could she have?" Lancelot sputtered after Arthur had ushered them all away from the jail cell.

"That question is for Inara to answer Lancelot. There are many things that make people take the lives of another, and I am sure that Inara has a reason just like the rest. But there is no excuse for such a murder, she will be put to death according to Roman law."

"Death? Arthur you cannot be serious. She is the niece of the Pope! Are not such people above such acts in Rome? Don't you value your nobility above all others?" Lancelot spat.

"Calm yourself Lancelot. Her family does not yet even know." Arthur said quietly before walking off to go tell them of their daughter's fate.

Lancelot punched the wall in frustration in his wake and let out a feral growl before heading off to find a bottle of ale to calm his nerves. The other knights had already found themselves in the comforts of such liquor, and while some sought solitude, Gawain and Galahad did not.

"Did you think her capable of murder, Gawain?" Galahad asked the man whom he regarded as a brother.

"Nay. But she had to have been quite the actress to have fooled us." Gawain said clasping Galahad on the shoulder.

"Aye...and fooled us she has. I had thought her different than other Romans...how wrong I was." Galahad said with a nervous laugh.

"We were all fooled by her Galahad...Rome is full of deceit, and Inara was just another poisonous spider spinning her web."

Arthur had paused in front of the door to Marcus and Fatima's chambers. How was he to tell them that their only child is being held for murder? Raising his hand determinedly he knocked several times. A few moments later he could hear the shuffling of feat, and a rather tired looking Marcus Paulus greeted him with confusion.

"Arthur? What is the meaning of this, it is it not yet even dawn?" Marcus whispered.

"Forgive me for the hour. But this is a matter which dictated your immediate concern."

"Immediate concern? What has happened?" Marcus said slowly his face falling.

It was then that Fatima appeared at his side, she looked like she had hastily dressed and was clutching her dressing gown tight about her chest.

"Your daughter..." Arthur began but was cut off by Fatima.

"What about Inara? She slumbers in her chambers." Fatima said confused.

"No, M'Lady. She is being held for murder..." Arthur said slowly.

"Murder? That's impossible. She is in her room we are sure of it." Marcus stood forcefully and strode to the door that was adjacent to Inara's chambers and stepped inside. The bed looked like it had never been slept in and Inara's cloak was missing.

"She is gone...Fatima." Marcus said with a tremor in his voice.

"Take me to my daughter, Commander." Fatima said as she threw on her own cloak.

Arthur nodded his head in consent and began his journey back towards the prisons with one of the highest ranking families on the Island in tow.

Inara shifted drawing her body into a small ball against the wall. Her body ached from the Romans' idea of "persuasion." Several blows she withstood during their interrogation before she had fallen to the floor bleeding. But not before managing a well placed hook to the nose of her captor. After that they had bound her to the wall and removed her shoes to prevent her legs from doing any more damage.

They denied her a cloak and had left her to freeze. She was a murderer after all, and murderers did not deserve any comforts. When she had seen Arthur arrive and look at her with such disappointment and confusion is when she truly broke. Arthur had seemed to be the voice of reason on the island, and if he doubted her, then no one would believe her when she told them of her innocence.

She had just left Lancelot, and was heading back to her chambers via the long route so that no one would notice her slipping inside when a group of Roman soldiers advanced upon her with weapons drawn. Inara looked around nervously, not understanding what was occurring until a rather hulking man's fist took away her consciousness. She had awoken to their questioning, received their interrogation and the scrutiny of the knights. And now she was all alone.

Echoing footsteps on the stone floor caused Inara to look up. Had the knights returned to gawk at her once more? If they had, she would stare them down and call out to them with such ferocity that they would regret it. But instead she saw her Father and Mother accompanied by Arthur.

"Inara...what have they done to you?" Her mother said as she grasped the bars.

"Mwt... I didn't do anything...I swear to you I did not." Inara said as she cried to her mother in her own language.

"Marcus, we have to get her out of here." Fatima said slowly.

"Arthur, is there nothing that can be done for her?" Marcus shouted.

"I am sorry. She was seen leaving the area of the crime, she will be held until such a date is determined for her execution." Arthur said with difficulty.

"Execution? You would execute my daughter?" Marcus continued, his face growing red, and the veins in his neck beginning to bulge.

"Marcus, please. Calm down, you will stress your heart too much." Fatima begged, lying a hand upon her husbands arm.

He shrugged her off and cast a glare to Arthur before moving to the bars where his daughter now made an effort to stand as best she could given her restrictions.

"Inara...listen to me. I know you could not have done this. I will see that you are free from here. Just be strong for me, aye?" He said quietly.

"Aye." Came Inara's faint reply.

Marcus stalked off from the jail, he had much to do if he wanted to see his daughter free from the clutches of death. Fatima lagged behind to speak with Arthur. The Commander, had expected another verbal lashing like Marcus had given him, but instead he was met with the heartbroken voice of a mother.

"Arthur, she is my only child. Inara could never commit such a violent crime, she is much too pure. I beg of you, do not kill her yet. Give us time, and we will make you see.. Inara is no murderer."

Fatima brought his rough battle-hardened hand to her lips and pressed a kiss to it, a few tears falling upon his skin before she grabbed her skirts in her hands and followed the path of her husband.

Arthur went to the round table and sat in his chair with his head in his hands rubbing the sockets and standing up before knocking one of the chairs to the side in frustration.

"God, what would you have me do? She has taken the life of another which is a Sin beyond the rest. Inara is a murderer and for that she must die. But I feel as though if I sign her death sentence, I am doing worse than what she did. Why has it always fallen upon me to make such difficult decisions? Am I not a mortal man like the rest? What gives me the right to deal out life and death?" Arthur fumed.

"Because...you are Commander of this fort, you are a Roman." Came a heavily accented voice.

Arthur turned to see none other than Tristan standing at the doorway. Tristan, though like a brother to him, had not been his confidant, that position was Lancelot's alone. It surprised him naturally, that it would be his scout who would come to him now.

"Arthur, I think we do not understand the full picture..." Tristan began.

"What is there to understand? Tristan...if you know something speak of it now."

"I was on watch Arthur, Inara had snuck out for a ride which I thought was harmless enough as Lancelot would surely bring her back to the safety of the fort. And he did, they conversed in the stables and parted ways. Then the scream of Arcadia was heard and we all rushed to her home. But, the time between events was too close. There is no way that Inara could have reached his home in time, found the map, slit his throat and exited." Tristan said carefully.

"So you are saying that Inara is innocent...but why if Lancelot had been with her did he not speak of it? Surely, if he thought it impossible for her to reach the Captain's home in time he would have spoken." Arthur reasoned.

"I do not know Lancelot's reasons for silence. Those questions are for him alone. I just thought that I would give you warning before you sent an innocent woman to her death." Tristan bowed his head to Arthur and left.

He had done his part for the girl. He knew Inara could not have committed the crime, but how was he to prove it? It was only circumstantial evidence, and not enough to sway the beliefs of all.

Inara knew that her mother would stop at nothing to get her out of that cell. That was Mwt in a nutshell; determined, fiery, and unyielding. And knowing that fact made her feel that much better. Her fate for the moment forgotten, her attention was turned to the rumbling of her stomach. How long had she been down here? Her body was sore from being forced into such a position and her toes and hands had begun to go numb. They had not made an effort to heat the jail in any way, the guards themselves wearing several layers and heavy cloaks still found cause to shiver. Not a glance was spared for Inara. Some how though sleep took over her and she shut her eyes.

When she awoke, it wasn't from a pleasant slumber but from one of pure exhaustion. However, she found that a pleasant weight now covered her. She inhaled the scent of the cloak, it was of pine, horse and smoke. She knew immediately who it belonged to and she thanked him from the bottom of her heart. Her attention was drawn to a water bladder and a small piece of parchment that had also been left for her.

"_You still owe me another conversation."_

Inara breathed in deeply, forever grateful to Tristan.


End file.
